Plaything
by Mending Hands
Summary: Chris Redfield finds a certain someone in his kitchen...this can only lead to one thing! Sorry I'm terrible with summaries lol. ChrisxWesker Yaoi One-shot. Rated M for explicit sexual themes. Reviews are vastly appreciated.


**Plaything**

_***This is my first ChrisxWesker one-shot so if you don't like then don't read nobody's forcing you***_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil or any of its characters, Capcom does. I do not make this story for profit just pleasure.**_

_**Read, review, enjoy!**_

Chris sat up, groaning like a zombie, and glared at his buzzing alarm clock with pure hatred. He had just had the most wonderful dream, a dream that involved Jill Valentine, his heartthrob, making out with him in a phone booth. It was so vivid that Chris still smelled Jill's Orange Blossom perfume, feel her luscious, petal-soft lips against his own. The young STARS agent rolled out of bed, grumbling to himself, and trudged over to the bathroom.

"You're gonna make me late, buddy", Chris growled at his very erect penis. No, he wasn't going to be late for work today, not like every other Thursday morning that ended up with coffee stained shirts, fucked up hair, and his boss shaking his head in disapproval. Sighing in frustration, Chris paid his neglected member no attention and hopped into the shower. The soap felt good on his toned, manly physique, so good that Chris couldn't help but press the slippery bar against his cock that was now harder than a prosthetic leg. He rubbed it up and down until he was panting, so close to release but, bloody hell, he only had ten minutes to get dressed so there was no time.

**Dammit, I can't even eat breakfast! ** As if on cue Chris's stomach roared like a savage beast but, like his poor penis, he ignored it and stuck a toothbrush in his mouth. He desperately needed a shave but he remembered Jill saying "I like you with stubble" so Chris left his chin dusted with the light brown, almost golden hairs, admiring how it made his boyishly handsome features a little rugged in that "I'm a morning-sexed man" kind of way. In fifteen minutes Chris was fully dressed in his green STARS uniform, unruly hair combed, teeth brushed. With one last glance in the mirror he was about to head downstairs when, to his surprise, the smell of bacon greeted his nostrils.

"Shit, is someone making me _breakfast?" _ Chris gasped; both excited and a little creeped out at the thought of some random person in **his **kitchen using **his** pots and pans to make...bacon. Oh well, how menacing could they be?

Shaking his head in bewilderment, Chris trotted downstairs, intent on getting some grub before work.

"Good morning, Redfield. I thought you'd never come downstairs."

The STARS Captain himself, Albert Wesker, glanced up at Chris with a cold smile. He was as handsome as ever in his tight, navy blue uniform that fit his perfect body like a second skin. His thick hair, unlike Chris's unruly mop, was wheat-blonde and glossy, slicked back from his forehead with lots of gel.

"A man of few words I see?" Wesker chuckled, his smirk growing. He liked that Chris was looking him up and down.

Chris blushed, embarrassed that the Captain had caught his roaming eyes.

"What the hell are you doing in my kitchen, Wesker?" He demanded.

"Well I'm off duty today so I decided to make you breakfast", Wesker said simply.

"Yeah right...you probably put poison in my orange juice or something didn't you?" Chris said, more baffled by Wesker's appearance than angry.

"Believe me Redfield I will have plenty of opportunities to kill you in the future", Wesker said. "Now be polite and sit down. Your breakfast is almost ready."

Annoyed, Chris rolled his eyes like a difficult teenager and took a seat, making sure to put as much distance between him and Wesker as possible. He glared at the pitcher of orange juice, poured himself a glass, and examined the liquid suspiciously. When he was satisfied that it wasn't poisoned he gulped it all down in one long, greedy swig. An awkward silence soon followed and Chris sighed, pretending to be more interested in his cuticles than the blonde, gorgeous man cooking for him. He didn't even look up when a plate full of scrambled eggs, bacon and hash browns slid across the table towards him.

"Eat up, Chris", Wesker said. "I went to a lot of work making that."

Chris sneered. "What gives? Are you coming on to me or something?"

He stabbed his fork into a hash brown and chewed slowly, angrily, trying his best not to show any emotion. The food was absolutely delicious—there was no denying that. Before he could control himself Chris was gobbling down his breakfast like a starving beast, still refusing to make eye contact with Wesker. He fixed himself another glass of orange juice and downed that too, his stomach now purring with contentment.

"How was it?" Wesker asked, sitting across from Chris with that superior grin back on his face. Chris wanted nothing more than to wipe it off.

"Fine", Chris said. He glared up at the older man, his big, brown eyes full of malice. "Okay so what's this all about?" The top three buttons were undone on Wesker's uniform and Chris made a cautious effort not to stare at his chest.

"What do you mean, Chris?" Wesker asked in an innocent voice.

"You know _exactly_ what I mean!" Chris shouted. "If you think that making me breakfast is suddenly going to wipe the slate clean between us then you're sadly mistaken. I still hate your guts and you hate mine—that's just the way it is and always will be. A tiger doesn't change its fucking stripes, Wesker..."

"Oh quit playing around, Chris", Wesker said matter-of-factly. "I know that you secretly want me." He watched, amused, as the young agent turned 50 shades of red.

"And you know what turns me on the most?" Wesker lowered his voice to a low, sultry whisper, antagonizing Chris further. "The way you resist me when it's so _obvious_ that it's all just an act. I find it quite cute, actually, how you roll your eyes—such a bad actor. You're only delaying the inevitable."

Chris picked up his plate and hurled it across the room like a Frisbee. Seething with rage, he lunged across the table and snatched up Wesker by his shirt collar.

"The only thing I WANT is to kick the **shit **out of you!" He then punched Wesker in the face, bursting his lip open.

"I'll give you a fight, asshole!" Chris continued to beat Wesker senseless, his fists slick with cherry-red blood as they pummelled his face for four minutes straight. Secretly enjoying the pain, Wesker decided that Chris needed to be taught a lesson and seized one of his fists before they could connect with his blood-soaked jaw again.

"Enough of that", Wesker hissed. "Now it's _my_ turn." Licking a salty trickle of blood from his lower lip he punched Chris as hard as he could, right in his pretty boy chin. The young, muscular brunette toppled to the floor with a groan. He tried to shield himself from Wesker who reached down and plucked him off the ground.

"You can dish it but you can't take it, huh?" Wesker made a clicking sound with his tongue. "What's the matter Chris? Don't like it when I play rough?"

**"FUCK YOU!"** Chris spat in the blonde man's face.

"Tsk, tsk, still bad-mouthing your superior. You never _**were**_ the brightest crayon in the box." He threw him against a far wall, his back crunching painfully when it smacked into the hard surface. Groaning in pain, Chris glared up at Wesker with dark, hateful eyes.

"You'll never get away with this!"

"Oh, but I already have", Wesker snickered, and grabbed a handful of Chris's soft, brown hair, the greasy smell of bacon tantalizing his nostrils. He hadn't eaten in two days so Chris was going to be his meal, a delicious little morsel that Wesker could nibble and play with for months.

After making his way upstairs he kicked open Chris's bedroom door, locked it, and flung his captive onto the mattress.

"What are you going to do?" Chris shuddered. His brown doe eyes were wider than saucers.

"I'm going to fuck you, Chris. That's what I'm going to do."

Wesker crawled onto the unmade bed and inhaled the younger man's spicy, masculine cologne. He had always remembered Chris as the scrawny guy on the STARS team, the one who made so many pathetic attempts to impress Jill Valentine even though he'd end up looking like a complete moron.

Now, pinned up against his body, the blonde noticed that Chris was trying to compensate for his low IQ with well-defined biceps and incredible stomach muscles. Wesker tore open the front of his STARS uniform; exposing honey-gold, tanned skin and sculpted abs that shimmered with sweat in the most erotic way.

"Very nice", Wesker said. He sucked on the rock-hard skin, licking every muscle so it tightened under the svelte, velvety texture of his masterful tongue. The blonde man licked his way up to Chris's chest, biting a nipple so he cried out and squirmed, helplessly, underneath him. Wesker threaded his hands, which were still clothed in sleek black leather, through Chris's short locks and claimed his mouth with a feral growl. He kissed the stunned brunette like a movie star, tasting spearmint mouth wash and a sweet, tangy flavour that he guessed was orange juice.

Moaning, Chris hungrily returned the possessive kiss and wrapped his arms around Wesker's broad shoulders, drawing him closer as he plundered his mouth.

"You like that, huh?" Wesker drew back to give Chris a triumphant smile that revealed his perfect, almost blindingly white teeth.

"I still hate your guts", Chris purred, and mashed his face against the older man's. Tired of Wesker always having the upper hand, he sunk his teeth into the silken pad of his lower lip, breaking the sensitive flesh so blood oozed out. Chris greedily sucked out the salty liquid and shoved his tongue back into Wesker's mouth, feasting on him like a vampire. He bit his lip again, hard, making the blonde jolt.

"Stop it, Redfield", Wesker grunted, his voice husky and thick with arousal.

"I thought you were a sadist", Chris remarked. He licked his high, sculpted cheekbones, trailed his wet mouth past his lips and buried them against Wesker's Adam's apple, imagining how much rich, coppery blood would gush into his mouth if he were to tear out that soft throat. The brunette felt his Captain's pulse quicken as he suckled on his manly neck, eliciting a low, ghostly moan combined with a delicious shiver of delight. Chris licked some wet blood off his chiselled jaw and, heart slamming in anticipation, tore open the blonde's uniform from the collar straight down to his flat naval.

_**Not too bad yourself, Captain**_ Chris thought, practically drooling at the sight of his naked chest that was smooth like a baby's, silky and hairless. Excited, he ravaged Wesker's beautiful body with his tongue, tasting every inch of his warm, pale skin. The blonde tugged Chris's green slacks down past his lean thighs, unlacing his boots he took off his socks as well. Now just in his black boxers Chris's huge, throbbing member rubbed up and down Wesker's solid abdomen as he humped him like a dog, desperate for release.

"Oh no, you're not getting off that easy", Wesker said. He peeled off his boxers and gave his luscious ass a hard, delicious smack, relishing the impossibly firm skin. He realized that he still had his gloves on and got rid of them along with the rest of his clothes.

Now both men were nude and intertwined on the mattress, Wesker's long, cat-like body straddling Chris's broad muscular one. They were like day and night; smooth, ivory skin glued to deep, glistening bronze.

"Do you want me, Chris?" Wesker rubbed his pounding cock against the the brunette's thigh, making him whimper in response. Chris grabbed fistfuls of Wesker's shiny blonde locks, smelling hairspray, sweat, and his delicious musky cologne.

"Oh please! Yes, yes, I want you", Chris panted.

"That's not good enough. I want you to _**beg**_ me! Beg, like a dog..." The blonde nibbled his earlobe, that long, playful tongue licking his hot skin. What Wesker craved more than anything was power, dominance, control, an air of superiority that he couldn't live without. When it came to sex he needed it, _worshipped_ it.

"Please Wesker...I want you now. Take me right now." Chris's voice was soft and pitiful, like a boy confessing to his father.

"My thoughts exactly", Wesker purred. His nails punctured the brunette's smooth, golden back as he pushed himself into Chris's tight little hole.

_"Ouch!_ **FUCK!"** Chris bucked in pain, the discomfort too much for him.

"Stop squirming, Redfield", Wesker snapped. He sank his teeth into his neck, instantly making Chris still again. "This is going to hurt, whether you like it or not."

"Just hurry up", Chris said.

"Don't _rush_ me", Wesker snarled through gritted teeth, his bright red, feline eyes blazing with annoyance. Shifting his hips, he spat into his hand and wrapped it around the base of his large cock, lubing it up. Wesker seized Chris's hips and, growing impatient, penetrated his fine ass to a depth of about three inches.

Chris arched his back and groaned; basking in the torturous pleasure/pain of Wesker was doing to him. Just the thought of being the blonde's boy toy made Chris's cock jump and he growled into the bed sheets, sweat pouring out of every orifice in his body.

Jerking his hips one last time, Wesker fully impaled Chris's tight rear passage to the hilt.

"Remember that you wanted this", Wesker said. "I'll forever hold this against you."

He rode Chris like a stallion, fully conquering him like he had dreamed of doing since the arrogant brunette strolled into his office for an interview. With each hard, violent thrust Wesker played with Chris's cock, stroking it up and down from the smooth head to his warm, heavy balls.

When Chris finally climaxed he nearly passed out. Platinum lightening filled the sky and fireworks went off in his head in a shower of red and gold sparks, the brilliant colors matching Wesker's cat-like eyes in intensity. A thousand volts of pure, orgasmic electricity rippled through his veins and he cried out, spraying the green shag carpet and satin sheets with semen.

All Chris could do was lie there, too exhausted to move. What he felt was shame; complete, burning shame for letting Wesker do this thing to him. Not to mention it officially made him _gay._

"Thanks Chris, I really needed that." Wesker unglued himself from Chris's warm, trembling form and quickly threw his clothes back on. "As much as I would love to play with you some more I still have work to do back at the office. If you tell ANYONE about this, even Claire, I'll kill you—understand?"

"Yes", Chris replied miserably.

"You belong to me now", Wesker said. "But remember this: we're still enemies, so don't think for a _**second**_ that this meant anything to me, because it didn't. You're just a plaything, Chris, no matter how cute your ass is. I'll always be watching."

Wesker gave him a harsh, predatory glare before putting the sunglasses back on his nose, once again the old Mr. Emotionless Wesker Chris knew and hated within the deepest depths of his soul.

"Until next time, Redfield..."

"There won't BE a next time", Chris sneered, but the older man was already gone.

**END**

_***points to review button***__ please let me know what you think! I hope it wasn't crap and I didn't ruin these two awesome characters for you guys. If you have something critical to say then state it respectfully. Don't just bash my story or I'll bash you. _


End file.
